


Becoming Aliit

by I_O_U_a_picture



Series: The Mandalorian and the Rebel Spy [1]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Family Bonding, Family Fluff, ManDadlorian, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:47:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29807922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_O_U_a_picture/pseuds/I_O_U_a_picture
Summary: Matoyis Reed - beroya, father, bad-ass - returns from Fest with a foundling who becomes apart of his aliit, which comes with a ready made older brother by the name of Din.Cute little fluffy piece as Din and Cassian need hugs basically.Part of my 'The Mandalorian and the Spy' series but can be read individually.
Series: The Mandalorian and the Rebel Spy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2191029
Kudos: 5





	Becoming Aliit

Din watched as his buir came back from a bounty on Fest. He didn’t run up to him like he did for the first few years of his life in the covert, back when he thought that everything could be taken from him suddenly again. Now, he was thirteen and had been in training for the last three years. He could wait until later, in the sanctuary of their clans room to greet his buir home. 

Although, there was something different about how his buir was walking. He wasn’t injured - which could only be a good thing. Matayis Reed was not someone any of the covert tried to cross when he was grounded due to an injury - he was a menace when he had nothing to do. Din still doesn’t know who he had managed to steal the head of Clan Vizla’s helm and hide it for three days, but those three days had been  _ heavenly _ as the clan leader had usually been the one in charge of the basic training for the children of the covert. 

No, his buir was not injured. Din caught sight of a mop of brown curly hair sticking out of the make-shift blanket Matayis had made with his cloak. A child was fast asleep on his shoulder. A foundling. 

Din knew that the rebellion happening on Fest was not going well. The Empire was killing the planet and did not care for the consequences - much like their attitude to all planets that they touched. Din was not at all surprised to see that his buir had found a child without a family on Fest. He was surprised that there wasn’t a drove of them following at his buirs heels. 

His buir had stopped, and he spoke in low tones with another of the covert - one of the Krayt clan, Din thought. The other motioned in his direction and his buir looked at him, his gaze through the visor fixed on his ade. Once the elder of their little family was sure that he had his son’s full attention, he jerked his head and started to walk away. Din, used to this kind of quiet communication - a habit formed from both his buir and himself being people of few words and from not sharing a common tongue when he was first brought to the covert - quickly excused himself from the table with the other trainees and jogged to catch up. 

"Su cuy’gar, buir," he greeted.

"Su cuy’gar, ad'ika. Have you been behaving? No incidents that the Armour is going to tell me about?" Of course his father would ask this. Din had a habit (to call it a habit implied that he wanted it to happen in the first place) of getting into fights with Paz Vizla. A possible holdover from the friendly rivalry that their buirs had with each other. While the elder clan members' rivalry did not extend past mostly harmless pranks, their sons had been tempered by being in close competition with each other. A fact that annoyed the clan-born Paz to no end - especially since he was older by a year and much, much larger than Din.

Din sighed. "There was a small altercation last week but the matter has already been resolved." At his buirs pointed look, Din continued. "We had to clean and fix all the 'freshers in the covert."

"An interesting punishment… What were you being punished for?"

"It was a stupid reason. Paz started it. I finished it. What does it matter? It's over." 

Matayis hummed, unconvinced at the finality that Dins tone had suggested. The man knew his ade and the youngest Vizla. This was just one battle in a long running feud. He silently bet that the two boys would have another fight in the next few weeks - it was practically guaranteed. Bets could be wagered on another altercation taking place it happened so regularly - like the twin suns rising above Tatooine everyday. 

"The fight may be over and a punishment may have been given but this discussion isn't over." His tone and words brokered no room for argument. 

"Jate, buir," his son mumbled, knowing he wasn't out of trouble just because his father had other matters to attend to. 

They arrived in the hallway where the forge was located, the sound of a hammer hitting beskar ringing down its length. It was echoing off the walls - almost making it louder than it was when standing in its heated heart. The child in his father's arms huffed, pressing his face further into the man's neck. When the noise didn't lessen, Din watched as two dark brown eyes blinked sluggishly awake. A small frown creased the child's forehead as he took in his new surroundings.

"Hello," Din said to him in Basic, but got no response. The teenager shrugged, remembering what it was like to be a foundling. At least this child had slept through seeing a whole covert of Mandalorians so already he'd be less overwhelmed than Din had been. Taken from a bunker and almost immediately greeted by a dozen or more Mandalorians coming down from an adrenaline high of battle. 

The forge itself was warm as always and its armourer was present. Din had wondered more than once if she, and her predecessor, lived there but had since decided it mattered little. The current Armourer, while younger than some would like, was incredibly skilled and somehow very wise beyond her years. His buir had once mentioned that she was younger than himself by a few years - but her lack of age did not make him want to challenge some of her rulings. She was tough, but fair and did not mince her words. He liked her for that. 

"Reed," she greeted as he sat on one of the forges benches. Din lingered in the threshold - unsure as to why his buir had brought him here. "Another successful hunt, and I see you did not return alone." The child, having heard her voice and the unfamiliar Mando'a she spoke in, had twisted in his father's arms to face her. 

Matayis nodded his head once, then responded. "Yes, the hunt was successful and profitable. It will bring much needed funds to the tribe." He adjusted his grip on the child. "I found this one on Fest - he has no-one. He was throwing rocks at stormtroopers. He’s very good at aiming - good hand-eye coordination." 

The Armourer nodded her head and turned back to her tools. "So, he is a foundling. Do you wish to take him as your own? I see no other reason for your ade to be here also if that is not the case." 

His father turned his head. Din realised why he was here and his buir was seeking something. Approval, perhaps? He didn't know how to respond. He blinked at him. 

"Ad'ika?” his father asked, sounding almost hesitant. The child’s head was looking over his other shoulder. Big brown eyes stared at him, fear and confusion evident in them. The teenager remembered what it had been like to be that child - one that had seen horrors and knew loss and sorrow far deeper than someone his age should know; one that was thrown into a culture so very different from his own, but no less loving. 

Din nodded. His father nodded back and gestured for him to sit beside them. Once his son was settled at his side, he switched to Basic - a language he knew the child was proficient in. “Cassian, this is my ade - my son - Din. He was like you - alone and without family but now we are aliit - family. If you want, you can become a part of our aliit too.”

Cassian’s brow scrunched up as his eyes darted back and forth between his rescuer and his son. As moments passed, the frown began to lessen and his gaze became steady, focusing solely on Matayis. He swallowed. “Yes.”

The Armourer came over and presented a Mythosaur pendant to Cassian, who took it hesitantly. Seeing his hesitance, Din dug out his own pendant from where it was hidden within his clothing and held it up to show the younger boy. “It’s a Mythosaur skull. There are many stories about them and they are a symbol of our people. I got this when I was brought here - it’s to show that we are part of the clan.” Cassian did not seem to understand - pendant hanging from his hand. Din licked his lips nervously. “Mandalorians have a saying: aliit ori’shya tal’din. Family is more than blood. Being a part of this clan doesn’t mean you have to forget your birth parents or where you came from. You are Mandalorian, regardless of your past.” 

Dark eyes continued to stare at the older boy. He blinked once… twice… then held up the pendant to his head and struggled to get it over his head without letting go of Matayis’ chest plate. Din reached over and gently priced the cord from little fingers and carefully got it sitting around the boy's neck. Cassian smiled at him and Din found himself smiling back. 

Matayis moved Cassian so he stood on his own feet, facing each other. He looked to the Armourer who removed herself from her forge. He waited until he could no longer hear her steps and, knowing that there was only one way to come to the forge and she would be guarding it, he returned his attention to the boy in front of him and said:

“Ni kyr’tayl gai sa’ad. I know your name as my child,” he translated upon seeing a frown on his new son's face. He removed his helm. 

They were truly aliit now. 

***

“Din, take Cassian back to our quarters. Get him something to eat. As you pass the Armourer, ask if she’ll return. I have some things I need to discuss with her.” Their buir ordered as he replaced his helm over his head. Din knew that he was part of what was going to be discussed but didn’t push his luck. He had a vod to look after. 

“Jate, buir,” he sighed. He stood up and looked at his brother. “Let’s get you some food.” Cassian eagerly nodded his head and was quick to follow after him as they left the forge. 

Matayis watched them go, a smile graced his unseen face. Din would make a good older brother… he just needed to learn to keep his temper in check. Something he planned to discuss with the Armourer. 

She walked into her domain and started to tidy her tools away, knowing that the conversation to come would be a long one. Once she was done, she settled herself on a stool and faced the tribe’s beroya. He silently placed the credits he had earned on the table next to them - it looked like the bounty he had chased had been very profitable indeed. 

“You wish to discuss Din and Paz,” she stated and received a nod of confirmation. “Truth be told, Matayis, Vizla could do with a parent as interested in resolving these matters as much as yourself.”

Matayis sighed heavily. “If I wanted to discuss Paz’s behaviour, I would go to Arno about his youngest but I am here because I want to discuss my eldest. Surely Arno needs to realise that the behaviour between them needs to stop now before they get strong enough to cause some serious damage? Din is growing like a weed and I remember what Arno looked like at their age. I have no doubt that Paz will grow taller and broader at the same time.” He paused and looked down at his clasped hands. “What can we do?”

The Armourer sat as still as always when she was thinking. What could they do? Arno Vizla, while a good father and a great Mandalorian, was unconcerned about the harm these quarrels brought towards his youngest son and the foundling. She knew that Din’s status as a foundling and, also of being very gifted in training, had effectively painted a target on his back. However, she also knew that if it hadn’t been Vizla’s child, it would have been another clan-born child trying to prove themselves. While foundlings were cherished and part of their culture, clan-born children always had that little bit of extra pressure to prove themselves. When a foundling like Din came along, it caused problems. 

Except, these problems usually ironed themselves out with minimal intervention. This was the third year of the boys long running feud. Yes, their fathers bickered and played pranks on each other - this had stemmed from a similar past, but neither boy had caused the other serious injury. A year ago, Din had his arm reset after a particularly nasty break caused from using wooden training equipment when partnered with Vizla. Din had yielded after his arm had broken but Paz continued to try and get him on the floor. It had taken Pax’s own father grabbing the quarterstaff to make his son stop. 

It also did not help that Din had a temper. When he had first arrived at the covert seven years ago, he was quiet - traumatised perhaps being the better descriptor. She remembered the scared young boy wrapped in a deep red tunic with unruly curls and bloodshot eyes from many tears being shed. He hadn’t understood any Basic - apparently the common tongue of his upbringing being the local language and had yet to be taught Basic. Hardly surprising considering Aq Vetina’s location in the galaxy - barely anyone had travelled there, and those that did would not have travelled to where he had lived as a child. 

As time progressed, he picked up Mando’a, Basic and words in other languages very quickly but at the same time, he would get incredibly frustrated - even for a six year old. He would disappear for hours in a dark mood. She remembered once, during one of these episodes, Matayis came to speak to her predecessor and she had been in the forge also. The other Mandalorian was also frustrated - he did not think it would be fair to take Din as his foundling unless the boy could understand what he was telling him and what the child would be agreeing to. 

Her predecessor had been almost rude in his response and had looked close to hitting Matayis’ helm with a hammer to knock some sense into him. His reply had been:  _ “You want a child, who has lost everything he knew - his home, his culture, his language, his parents, friends, loved ones; a child who stared death in the face and survived; a child who is now surrounded by adults he does not know to trust because he cannot see their faces, to just understand that he is not going to lose what he now has? The boy does not know that you intend to take him as your ade - he’s watched several other foundlings who arrived after himself come and become aliit with other clans. As far as he is concerned, Reed, he is unwanted. Go take the adoption vow and make him aliit, you di’kut! And stop wasting my time.”  _

Matayis took the advice - almost tripping over himself to escape the Armourers ire. The change in Din had not been instantaneous. It was noticeable but incrementally so. He got less frustrated and when he did, he didn’t disappear for hours but seeked comfort in Matayis. Slowly, these incident’s became less and less. His grasp on both the languages used in the covert got better until one day he was as fluent as if he had spoken them his whole life. He was still reserved but not as quiet as he had first been. 

His temper, like most children, had its days but even these incidents became few and far between. They, unfortunately, began to make more frequent reappearances when his training began at age ten and the competition between him and Vizla began. 

“Perhaps, a bit of responsibility will help. Being an older sibling requires setting examples and thinking of more than just what his actions do on an individual level. Before, he was your ade - you’re the beroya - that holds significance and importance. Now, he is still your ade but he is also a ori’vod.” She said sagely. “Go. Spend time with your aliit. I will speak with Arno tomorrow and make him see sense. If not, we will all have a discussion with some of the other clans to figure out a solution.” 

Not wanting to argue with her, knowing that while her predecessor had refrained from hitting idiots seeking advice from ringing heads, she did not always share that restraint. He paused in the threshold, and angled himself slightly towards her. “You never told me what the boys did to deserve cleaning and fixing the ‘freshers.”

She smiled underneath her helm. 

***

Matayis had never been so happy to close the door of his quarters behind him. He leaned against it, letting it take his weight, he removed his helmet and set it on a hook next to the door. He breathed in the unfiltered air of his home and shut his eyes as he processed the last few hours. Quite frankly, he felt like one of the luckiest guys out there - he enjoyed his work, he had a good family in the tribe and now he had two sons. 

His eyes snapped open. Two sons that were being too silent for his liking. 

Sure, Din was (when not provoked) generally a quiet boy. Cassian, as far as he could tell, was similar, somehow far too serious for someone his age. But this did not explain the silence that rang through their home.

Sweeping through their quarters on silent feet he found the main room - containing a kitchen, a small area for eating and relaxing - empty.Although he found the remains of the meal he’d sent them to get sitting on the table and a portion for himself left in the warmer. At least he knew the boys had been here which was a start. Just the bedrooms left - then he would start looking in the rest of the covert and hope that Din did not run into Paz. 

The door to Din’s room was slightly ajar so he pushed it open slowly. The sight that greeted him affirmed him that he had made the right choice bringing Cassian into the family. Din was sat up against the wall, sitting across the bed so his socked feet hung off the edge, and his head tipped slightly back to rest against the wall behind him. Cassain was curled up on his side, his head falling on Dins thigh. Din had one hand on the crown of his little brother's head and the other resting gently around his small chest. Both were breathing deeply and were completely asleep. 

Matayis smiled at the sight. Maybe the Armourer was right… but he wasn’t going to let her know that right away. 

***


End file.
